


Just one last step

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Health problems, Mental Illness, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Rescue, Searching, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, also how to treat mentally unwell people, how not to treat mentally unwell people, oblivious Batfam, reply to suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26630173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: Wayne Plaza is the tallest structure in Gotham. Just one more step. One more step until it all stops. Just one last jump to end it all...at least it could have been if partners weren’t around.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 259





	Just one last step

**Author's Note:**

> Written to help my own suicidal thoughts.

Standing with his toes over the edge of Wayne International Plaza every part of Jason urging him to just let gravity take his weight. To just lean forward that little bit more. To let his mind switch off and finally re-enter the black that he’s been missing for so long.

It would be so easy. So quick to just let his weight shift. The 1,500ft drop would certainly be enough to end it all. His hand leaves the gargoyle at the very top, the one that is guardian of those entering Gotham by air, and floats in the still night air. Almost as if he’s testing the wind current for his fall.

Tonight had been a rough night in a string of rough nights over the course of the last two months. The family arguing with him, pushing him away. No-one willing to see how much he desperately needed his family. Needed them to see the hurt, the fear, the utter contempt Jason aimed at himself with a precision he usually reserved for his fights.

None of them had.

Tonight had been the worst, not in terms of what happened or how the family had spoken to him. It was the worst because he’d been feeling so low all day but still dragged himself out on patrol. His hits sloppy and his escapes sloppier. The family had ignored him. Not a single member chatting with him over their comms, nor approaching him in person. Then he’d caught sight of them all, even Bruce, perched on the edge of a Red Robin eating fast food and enjoying their break together. He’d not been invited, not even asked. Just forgotten.

Always forgotten.

So, Jason had done what they say he does best, he’d run. He’d run as far and as fast as his body would allow. Pushing himself harder than ever. His lungs burning as his vision swam and head went dizzy. His body reminding him of the truly agonising workouts he’d been putting himself through while not eating. Determined to be more like his siblings so they’d see him as one of them; so he’d see himself and not see a double of Willis. 

With one final breath he steps out.

The air burns as he falls. Body hurtling towards the ground. Already mapping out where he’s likely to end up a smear.

He’s not had much chance to fall when a weight slams into him and sends them both tumbling across one of the balconies that lead to Bruce’s office. Bastard wanting an easy access point as Batman.

“What the fuck kid? Did I train you just so you could fucking end it all later? I don’t fucking think so.” Deathstroke’s gruff voice physically hurts Jason to hear. His anger so palpable he’s convinced he’d feel it if he could just reach out.

Instead, Jason stays where he came to a stop. Back on the balcony floor and one leg twisted from the knee between him and the door. “Just kill me already Slade, you’re not the only one that would want me dead tonight.”

Deathstroke pulls off his mask, body losing some of its tension as he goes from hired killer to compassionate humans. “I’m not here to kill you.” He reaches out and tilts Jason’s head to the side so they can look in each other’s eyes. “I saw how you’d changed and am not losing you. Not again.”

“You’re the only one who has.” Jason sounds too small. Beaten down after months, of not years, of dealing with the spiral of depression. “Nothing to lose anymore, it’s all gone.”

“I see you. I won’t ever stop.” The audible growl in Slade’s voice shocks Jason.

The last time someone spoke to him with that much emotion ~~that wasn’t anger~~ was when he’d been mostly catatonic in Talia’s care. Her gentle voice telling him all about Gotham and Bruce. None of his family have. They’d thrown anger at him, distrust, and a sickening venom. Just, nothing close to protective rage or love.

Slade scoops Jason into his arms and manages to make it to ground level with his staff and the building assisting to slow the sheer drop. He bundled Jason into the passenger’s seat and ensured the child safety lock was flicked on so he couldn’t throw himself out of the moving car.

The drive seemed to take forever and nothing. One blink Gotham’s night was around him and the next he was in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere surrounded by trees instead of urban jungle. A fancy log cabin tucked into a secluded patch of grass.

“Come on Jay,” Slade scooped Jason up once he was out of the car. There was something heartbreaking about seeing the strong, formidable Red Hood so broken. So destroyed by his fucking family. So alone.

He’d become unresponsive during the drive. Not answering any questions Slade had asked and just resting his forehead against the window. A lovey greasy spot marking the window and angering Slade. For all their public talk of being a family, at least public to those that knew and Slade just happened to be one of them after how many run-ins he’d had with them, they sure liked to ignore the issues right under their nose.

The following weeks were spent in solitude. Just the two of them milling around the cabin. Slade talking and asking Jason questions, often ones as boring as ‘what do you want for lunch?’, and always anticipating the silence of the other man.

Since their tussle on the balcony of Wayne International Plaza Jason hadn’t said a word. No biting comments. No snarky replies. Not even a nod to acknowledge the questions he’d been asked.

It was hard. Trying to help someone who’d spiralled so far down. Their spirit bruised and bent from too many years of beatings. Still, Slade pushed on. 

He wasn’t sure why. He’d asked himself a million times over the week why he was helping Jason. An answer just wouldn’t come. Well, an answer would, it just wasn’t one he wanted to admit.

By the end of the second week, with Jason’s weight increasing at a snails pace to prevent a sudden shock to his system, Slade decided he’d take the kid out hunting. There was plenty of game in the dense woodland surrounding the cabin. Deer, fowl, and the odd rabbit if you were quick enough. Not that Slade hunted the rabbits; he couldn’t help but picture Joey and Grants faces every time they’d seen Death and Stroke, that happy, carefree joy kids had when their pets were around, playing with the balls of fur and laughing at their antics; so rabbit was off the table. Didn’t stop them hunting everything else.

Bright and early, just as the sun had started to rise, Slade dragged Jason out of bed and into the shed attached to the house. It would easily be a dream shed for some people; heating and air conditioning, Lino floor, insulated walls, and racks upon racks of weapons. Slade pulled two rifles off their holders and held one out to Jason.

For being a ‘son’ of the Bat Jason knew how to quickly and efficiently dismantle and reassemble a gun. Checking it over and ensuring the sights were aligned correctly. Slade directed him to the trap door in the floor and watched as Jason disappeared down it to fire the rifle and check it really was in top shape. Two shots, that’s all he needed, impressing Slade once again with his prowess with a weapon the _Dark Knight_ took issue with.

They moved silently through the trees. Staying in each other’s eye-line but spreading out to ensure the best catch. The sun creeping through the sky and streaming through the dense foliage when it could.

It took two hours of careful manoeuvring to find buck grazing in one of the patches of grass and vegetation. A small oasis in amongst the trees. Perfect for them to forage.

They circled back together and Slade tilted his head towards it. Indicating he wanted Jason to take the shot. He crouched while Jason settled in. Laying in the bush and flicking out the rifle support. Adjusting for the wind.

Tongue poking between teeth. Lip pulled back. Nose scrunched up.

It was kind of cute, watching the little ticks Jason was letting show. Slade caught himself watching Jason more than keeping an eye on the buck. He didn’t doubt Jason would make the shot. It was simple compared to jobs they’d done together before.

The bang ripped through the air. The deer falling just as the noise hit them. 308 Winchester round through its head. A quick, instantaneous death. Compassionate compared to some of the shots Slade knew ‘hunters’ made.

They trudged back to the cabin, the deer thrown over Slade’s shoulders, after they’d lopped off it’s antlers to make moving through the trees easier. It was hung to drain in a separate shed designed for the breaking down and handling of anything they’d caught. Then retreated back into the cabin to wash up.

Slade had just settled on the sofa, feet on the coffee table and tablet in hand to scroll through some potential contracts when Jason joined him.

Usually, if Slade didn’t prompt him to do something, the younger man would retreat to his room. Curling up in bed in the dark and sleeping or thinking for hours.

It was good to see him up and about. He’d tugged on a clean tee and sweats; a step up from the pair of sweats he’d been wearing for the past week. His hair was still damp and he smelled faintly of the shower gel Slade used himself, despite the older man knowing there was other stuff in there for Jason to use.

Jason slumped onto the other end of the sofa, pulling his knees up and curling his arms around them. The six-feet tall man looked tiny. His skin still dull and his hair damaged. Body still too thin for his size and the activity he was used to.

“Just looking through some contracts, seeing if there are any we could take in a couple months.” Slade doesn’t look at Jason as he speaks, just continues scrolling through the list of potentials Billy has sent him.

“Why’d your do it?” Jason’s voice is soft and broken. Hoarse from disuse and the screaming he ends up doing during nightmares. Nightmares that only settle down once Slade is comforting him, holding him and running fingers through his hair, quiet words and safety enveloping him.

Slade gums but doesn’t look up. He can’t afford to spook the younger man. Not after how long it’s taken him to ask a question Slade’s been asking himself.

“Why’d you save me the other day?” He curls tighter as he speaks. Picking at the skin on his left wrist and hoping Slade won’t notice the multitude of scars there that match his thighs, hips, and ribs.

Slade reaches out and rests a hand overtop Jason’s. Stilling the behaviour. It makes Jason look up from his knees and meet the icy blue eye of Slade. Intently watching each other as they sit at a crossroads.

“It’s been two weeks Jace.” He ignored the confused flinch and questioning look from the kid. “Two weeks since that night and I’ve asked myself that same question over and over since then. You want to know why and I finally have an answer for you. I want you around, not just living or surviving, but at my side. My partner.”

There’s a sharp inhale from Jason as he processes what Slade has said. There is obviously a connection as his tablet is working. Still, it begs the question of why haven’t his family contacted him? Surely, if it’s been two weeks they’d have found footage of him jumping and then being caught by Slade. They’d search for him…wouldn’t they?

Thoughts run through Jason’s mind. Wizzing and whirling. Each piling on his self-hatred. Every ounce of doubt magnified as he thinks of their reactions if it had been _any_ of the others.

“Helmet and phone are in the cupboard under the TV. It’s where you put them when we got here and I didn’t want to move them.” Slade goes back to looking at his screen. Ignoring Jason as he wars with himself.

Eventually, Jason gives in. He has to know. _Has_ to! It can’t hang over his head. Not if what Slade said is true.

Not that Jason could ever understand why someone would want to be with him.

Both had retained their charge, showing the little use they’d gotten over the two weeks. They had been altered and fiddled with by Roy, when he was alive, to pull in electric current and transfer it to the battery without wires or a plug socket. His friend wanting him to never be left without backup. ~~Until West has killed his _only_ backup. ~~

He thumbed open his messages and his heart sank. Nothing. Not a single one, from anyone not just the family. The only recent one he’d sent or received was the one he’d sent to say goodbye to Slade. It’s only polite when you’re due on a job with the man the following month. Picked out and planned for them to keep up how well they worked together.

His helmet was much the same. Messages empty and no alerts for Red Hood being missing from Gotham.

Jason pulled up the news for Gotham on his phone. An Arkham break out and that was it. Yet he had nothing from his family asking where he was to help. Even checking his central computer in case Slade had deleted any had the same result. Nothing.

The events leading to him being on top of Wayne Plaza came back to him. The family, without him, enjoying their patrol break. The family bantering with each other over the coms without trying to talk to him, even though he’d checked in at the beginning and every couple of hours as per Bruce’s protocol. They knew he was in the city and out on patrol, but no-one contacted him.

It wasn’t all in his head.

Nor was it just in his nightmares.

He wasn’t family. He was just another body to shield themselves with when shit hit the fan.

Then again, if they’d not called him in for the Arkham breakout, was he even that?

Sobs tore from his body. His entire being seeming to break apart at the seams. World shattering around him.

Strong arms lifted Jason up and for a moment, just a moment, he thought they belonged to his father. Then the scent of black pepper, coriander, and vetiver filtered through his choppy thoughts. Slade. Slade had rescued him that night and was here for him once again.

He was placed onto a bed with such care, such gentleness, that it actually shocked him. Jason had never experienced such kindness.

Slade slipped onto the bed beside him and pulled him back into his arms, curling around Jason protectively. He waited the half an hour it took for Jason to cry himself dry to ask. “What happened?”

“It wasn’t all in my head.” Jason just about got out. Voice sounding worse thanks to his crying fest.

“What do you mean?” He knew he had to be careful. Clearly something had happened to trigger such a breakdown, Slade was just thankful it wasn’t as severe as two weeks ago.

Jason rolled over and nuzzled into Slade’s warmth. Face tucked under his chin and breath ghosting over Slade’s skin. “They haven’t noticed. No contact. No trying to find out what happened. I know B has cameras on top of his building. I know he does. Did they just…did they just watch the footage and move on without answers?”

There was silence for a few moments while Slade carefully thought of his answer. He had to tread carefully or risk pushing Jason away. “Is there any fancy tech in that bucket of yours that could have looped the cameras?”

Jason usually huffed an annoyed laugh whenever anyone close to him called his helmet a bucket, this time he just shook his head. “It has to be turned on and it wasn’t, I checked the logs just now.”

That froze Slade. His thoughts grinding to a halt as anger surged through him. After the reaction the man’s death had had upon the infamous Batman he should have been keeping a closer eye on his son. He’d give anything to have Grant back and would never let the boy out of his sight if he was granted the boon Bruce was.

Then that night after the text played through in slow motion. Watching Jason teetering on the edge and knowing he had to be quicker. Had to move faster if he wanted to rescue the man he’d not yet admitted to loving. His friend-with-benefits, both work and relaxation ones. Pushing his body to its limits to get there. Watching Jason take that step. His heart felt like it stopped just as it had before he’d thrown himself at Jason. The impact they’d made as they’d hit the balcony. Venom spewing from plush lips while Slade tried to accept what he’d just seen.

The older mercenary sucked in a breath and pressed a kiss to Jason’s limp curls. “I’ve got you Jace. I’ve always got your back.”

That night Jason didn’t move back to his own room. Didn’t retreat to his cave and allow himself to fester alone. He stayed in Slade’s arms. The exertion of the day draining him and pulling him quickly into sleep. Safe and wanted.

That night was a minor turning point for Jason. The following morning he showered and dressed in comfy, clean clothes. Engaged in conversation and answered any questions Slade asked. It wasn’t a massive change like the movies made it seem, the spark wasn’t back. The thoughts were still crowding his mind, thoughts of being better off dead, of picking and cutting and burning, of being a burden to the one person he had left.

Dr Villain arrived later in the afternoon with a woman Jason didn’t recognise. She introduced herself as Nina and accepted the tea Jason offered. Apparently she’d owned the therapist’s office Billy had dragged Slade to a decade ago, nailing his ass to the sofa until he agreed he finally needed help with his grief over Grant. Slade told Jason how reluctant he’d been at first, how for months Billy dragged him along weekly until he finally started talking. Nina not once cutting in and agreeing, keeping everything her patient had told her between them.

Villain and Slade disappeared to the gym/med room when Nina had asked for somewhere private to speak to Jason. It was the only room that was adequately soundproofed against Slade’s hearing as it was designed to block Superman’s hearing in the event he was hunting Slade. The place doubling as a safe room of sorts.

It gave Jason and Nina the freedom to talk while maintaining patient confidentiality. An hour wizzing by in a blink as she went over how she’d work with Jason. She’d booked into a holiday rental in a nearby town so she could see him daily for the first couple of weeks. The option to extend available if he wasn’t ready to move to twice weekly sessions. Those first couple weeks being more about coping strategies and building a relationship than about tackling the big things.

She disappeared down to the gym, Slade reappearing as she wanted to talk medications over with Villain as he had the best knowledge of Jason’s pit enhanced biology. The Lazarus Pit leaving cellular changes that hadn’t reverted once the rage wore off.

Slade walked over to the sofa where Jason was bundled up, his still underweight body unable to keep heat in. It was one of the things he’d spoken to Villain about, the research he’d done not conducive when the Lazarus Pit was taken into account. According to the doctor Jason wouldn’t be at risk of anything life threatening if they were to increase his intake back to close to his necessary daily intake, the portions just had to be smaller and spread out to account for how much his stomach could handle. The last thing they wanted in someone with disordered eating was to trigger vomiting or feelings of bloating as it would make the disordered thoughts surrounding food worse.

The younger man blinked up at him, wiping away a few lingering tears. A small, half smile rugged at his lips. His eyes looking less murky blue-green and closer to their ocean colouring than they’d been before his current episode.

Unable to help himself, Slade sat beside Jason and tucked him under his arm. Keeping the blankets wrapped around Jason and rubbing his bicep. Pecking a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you Slade.” Jason let his head slump back onto Slade’s shoulder and closed his eyes. A moment of quiet in his mind letting peace settle over him.

“It’s nothing,” Slade said simply as if it really was. As if for him, it had never occurred to not come for Jason. To not scour a city for him hadn’t even crossed his mind. As if it was as simple as getting a goodbye text and hunting him down. No thought needed. As if he really meant that much to Slade.

It was bizarre for Jason, having someone so easily care for him. Not even Cath had managed to make him feel like he came first. Drugs or the random men she’d fall for after one shared hit always took priority.

Tears choked Jason as he slumped against Slade’s chest. The feeling of love and safety so strong it was overwhelming. Slade’s arms around him, one holding him and the other running up and down his back. It was everything Jason had wanted; that security and love for who he was, not what he could do, or get, or be. Just because he was Jason.

Nina and Dr Villain re-appeared some time later with a prescription for Jason, along with Nina’s number and the landline of where she was staying. She wanted to ensure Jason could get hold of her. For any reason, she’d repeated just before leaving.

“Town?” Slade asked while still holding Jason. He didn’t want to move in all honesty. Jason against his chest and their calm silence soothing in a way silence hadn’t been in decades. Still, he knew it would be better for Jason to start his medications right away.

Jason began to shake. His breathing picking up. He took a few gulping breaths and nodded.

Slade wouldn’t have pushed if Jason really wanted to stay at home. Only he couldn’t leave him either. Billy might have been in town but getting him to do a three way trip to end up back in his hotel would be ridiculous.

****

The sun broke across Gotham. Bats and birds flying home after a night of crime fighting. Happy in the safety they’d bought about for another night.

In a flat in the Bowery were Jason and Slade. They were packing up Jason’s stuff and loading it into a truck. A drive across the country waiting for them as they settled into their new home.

It had been close to nine months since Jason had last been in Gotham. Since the night he’d tried to jump. He’d been nervous about returning to the city. Too high a chance of being spotted and ridiculed playing in over and over in his mind.

Then Slade had taken his hand and offered to come with. Sacrificing setting up their home to help Jason. Just as he’d sacrificed months worth of contracts to help him find stability.

The medications were working, after a lot of trial and error. His self-injurious behaviours had tapered off and he could now fight his thoughts by accepted they happened by not acting on them. Moving towards a distraction or meditation instead.

They’d just finished loading up when Jason noticed a slip of paper they’d missed tucked under his bed. They weren’t taking the furniture and Jason had arranged for a charity to come collect it before he sold the place, leaving the keys with the realtor.

He pulled the note carefully out from under the bed and froze as he recognised Bruce’s handwriting.

_Jason,_

_I assume because there was nothing of you at the bottom of Wayne Plaza that you are okay. If you continue with these dramatic cries for help we will be forced to intervene and the only place that would mean would be Arkham as there is nothing left that we can do. You are out of control and we are worried you are going to become one of the people you claim require a firm hand. I am not afraid to use just that to get you to behave. Leave Gotham, it’ll be what’s best for all of us and hopefully when you return you will not act out in such childish ways again._

_Yours,_

  1. _Wayne._



Jason froze. The words swirling around his head as he took in just what his father had written. He didn’t, he hadn’t, he didn’t know what to do. Every line proved him right. They didn’t care. They hadn’t seen it as the desperate last act of a man at the end of his rope. They saw it as a stupid act by a child. He crumpled to the floor. Breathing elevated. Tears streaming. Hands shaking. Everything felt too light and too heavy.

_How could they?_

The noise of Jason’s crying reverberated around the nearly empty apartment as Slade came back up from the truck. He’d been ready to move the last box until that noise had greeted him. The older man span around and raced towards it.

Too many memories of the last nine months, of longer than that, appeared in his mind. Memories of the fresh wounds on Jason’s legs that he denied. Pained gasps as Slade had run his hands over his chest while getting intimate on jobs. That night on the Plaza.

Fear wasn’t a common emotion Slade felt. His meta abilities and enhancements making him almost lackadaisical with his own health. Jobs not holding that life threatening edge that the army had.

Now, utter terror raced through his veins. Propelling him into the small room and to Jason’s side in seconds. Hauling the younger man into his arms and taking the note from his hands. Tucking Jason’s face against his neck as he whispered soothing words, letting Jason know he was safe and that Slade was there.

While Jason was calming down Slade read the note. His fear quickly turning to the burning acidity of anger. A man who’d claimed to be Jason’s father had written such vitriol. Not caring or understanding just how much his son was hurting.

Slade had known, before that night on the Plaza, how Jason didn’t care if he died again. How Jason believed not everyone wanted to be alive, including himself in that. He’d known just how much Jason was hurting but trusted the man’s family to help.

Instead they’d scorned and shunned him. Meeting up and ignoring him. Shutting him out of their lives while trying to control him through some bullshit excuse of family.

“You’re safe now Jace,” and he always, always made sure to call him Jace or Jason…never Jay, never. Slade hadn’t been able to understand how the man’s family could call him the nickname used for his murderer. Now he knew why, they just didn’t care. Not a single fibre of any of them cares about the compassionate and loving man breaking apart in his arms. “I’m got you baby. I’m right here. I believe you and I know the truth. Don’t let their uneducated words fool you, I know you and I’m here.”

The younger man shuddered as he listened. The words getting through only to be blocked out by the stark black handwriting of Bruce. A barrier in his mind as he fought with all he knew.

“Come on Jace, come back to me.” Slade let his voice be soft but insistent. Not rushing or pushing, just firmly reminding him he was there.

“They, they,” Jason tried to talk, “Slade.” He whined out. Curling further into Slade’s arms as he continued breaking apart.

Thinking quickly, Slade pulled out his phone and called Nina. Her ever calm voice coming through the speakers.

“Ramone, Way, and Denning Therapists. Nina Denning speaking, how can I help?” Her professional tone released a little of the remaining fear Slade held.

“Nina, it’s Slade. Jace can hear you too as I’ve put you on speaker. He’s, he’s not good. We were cleaning out his flat and there was a note from his father and,” Slade was babbling.

“Take a breath, Slade.” Nina cut in. “Jason, can you follow this rhythm for me as I can hear your breathing too. In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four and repeat. Find a square if you need help adjusting your breathing.”

Jason tried, counting just as Nina had always coached him. The style and length of time a lot different to that taught to all Robins. This one more for calming down than meditation.

As Jason’s breathing began to slow and steady Nina spoke again. “Jason I need you to tell me five things you see. Can you do that?”

She coached Jason through the five senses, each one dropping in number as they got harder. The task designed to divert the mind and force you to reconnect with the present. Listening carefully as his answers became clearer.

Only once Jason was ready did she extract a promise from him to video call once they made it to their hotel later that day. Ending the call and leaving him with Slade’s capable hands.

They were just about to hit Gotham’s city limits when blue lights flashed in the mirror and forced Slade to pull the car over. Jason sitting up ramrod straight as Slade slid his documents out ready for the officer.

Neither man were expecting to see Dick Grayson stood at the window. A displeased look in his eyes even as he feigned a smile for the rookie in his car.

He bent down as if talking to Slade but kept his gaze firmly on Jason. “What are you doing in Gotham Jay?” He asked. All the levity he’d use for family missing from his voice.

“Leaving.” Slade bit out.

“I wasn’t talking to you and if you answer for _him_ again I’m going to haul you in on any charge I can.” Dick bit back. Still refusing to take his eyes off Jason as if he’d run if Dick did so. “Don’t make me ask again Jason.”

“I’m leaving Officer Grayson. This city has caused me nothing but pain, I’m sure you won’t begrudge one of her citizens wanting a fresh start.” Jason didn’t take his eyes off the road. His voice still hoarse from sobbing in his old apartment and his eyes still faintly red and swollen. Jason handed over the note as he started speaking once again. “Any family I thought this place still had for me are all in her cemetery. If there is nothing else Officer, we need to get going as we’ve got a reservation to keep.”

Dick stepped back from the car as he read the note Bruce had left all those months ago. He waved them off as he read it through again and again. Unable to believe what he was reading. Not after he’d caught sight of his brother’s bare arms thanks to his t-shirt.

****

As the Bats and Birds were suiting up in the cave that night, waiting for Dick to arrive so they could leave with Nightwing, the atmosphere was jovial. There had been a few stressful cases and Arkham breakouts. However, not having to deal with Hood while that was going down made things easier as there were no landmines to step on. The extra muscle would have been nice but the majority of those present believed Jason deserved more than any of them, except maybe Dick, to be off with his team and enjoying his life.

They were sitting around the big conference table, feet kicked up and stuffing a few of Alfred’s sandwiches into their faces when Dick stormed down the steps. Rage and resignation swirling off him in a weirdly equal mix.

The original Boy Wonder marched over to the computers and punched in a date, accessing the records from Wayne International Plaza and its surrounding buildings. Watching the footage had his body tensing and that rage growing exponentially. They knew when it had ended as he whirled around and slammed a palm against Bruce’s chest. A piece of paper obscuring most of the symbol they flew under.

“You told us he was away with The Outlaws and had taken a break from the city. Was it just an error of judgement or did you feel like keeping the full truth from us?” Dick is clearly fuming. His face is flushed and he looks one careless comment away from exploding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dick.” Bruce tried t smoothly lie. His children looking over at Cass who shook her head to point out his lie.

“Oh really, allow me to remind you. My little brother jumped off the roof of Wayne Plaza with the intention of ending his life and all _you_ did was leave a shitty note about how much better we’d be without him around in his flat. Remember writing about how it was him attention seeking and how the only place he could heal would be Arkham. Does that ring any bells for you B?” The rage was ebbing, shoulders heaving and tears falling down his face.

There were shocked gasps around the table. None of them knew, they’d all seen Jason was struggling but none of them thought it was that bad. All assuming he’d reach out or one of the others would. They’d let one of their own down.

Stephanie and Duke were the first to move when Bruce didn’t answer. Ripping off their masks and throwing them onto the table. Storming over to their bikes where they perched waiting for the others.

Kate moves next, the one closest to Jason in ideals and in friendship. Her guilt weighing her down while forcing her to move. She looks her cousin dead in the eye with palms flat to the table and spit on the Bat insignia in its centre. As she stood to her full height she let her hands rest on the gun on her hip, the message clear. Come near him again and she’d gladly open fire.

Finally Tim and Cass copied Steph and Duke as Damian made his way to Dick’s side. Until a month ago he just believed Todd to be another of father’s collection. Then his mother had revealed how Jason had been the mysterious teen who’d cared for him during his infancy and toddlerhood. The teen he only remembered in his happier dreams.

The gentle hand to his back roused Dick from the fierce silent battle of wills he was having with Bruce. Just about managing to turn a soft smile to the youngest of their team. “We’ll get going in a minute Dami.” He ruffled the fifteen-year-old’s hair and pushed him lightly towards the bikes. Relieved when he moved without complaint to join the others.

“Last chance Bruce. Tell. The. Truth.” Dick’s rage had faded. Just that soul-crushing resignation at the possibility of losing his little brother thanks to the callous words of a man they’d both considered a father. Dick pushed Bruce’s chest with each word he spoke. Desperate for an answer. Even if it was one he wouldn’t like.

Bruce shoved him back sending Dick sprawling onto the table. “I was right, just look at what him coming back to the city has done to this family. It is always a show with Jason, always a way to get attention. He made his choice and I made ours.” Full Batman persona snapped into place. A boss who expected to be believed.

This time he wouldn’t be so lucky. “The scars on his arms tell a different story Bruce, as does that video. He isn’t back in Gotham, in fact he’s already left. This mess, us leaving you now, that’s all on you. My little brother tried to kill himself nine months ago and I am going to find a way to check this horrid note hasn’t set him back.” With his parting shot, Dick rose from the table and took out his communicator. He threw it at Bruce, along with his black card, and marched over to join his real family.

The hunt for Jason and Slade leaving both Gotham and NJ takes longer than Dick expects. Someone managed to get around all of Barbara’s subroutines taking the truck out of any footage, never obviously looping it, just editing the truck out. That meant whoever they were dealing with weren’t just good, they were excellent.

The eldest Wayne child scrolled through his contacts until he found a number he’d not touched in years, praying she wasn’t as paranoid as her father and kept it active.

“Grayson,” came the cold voice of Rose Wilson.

“I need you to get Husan to stop masking their tracks. We want to help, please let us help Jay.” Dick pled, no time for pleasantries when he knew Rose could hang up at any time.

There was a scoff so loud Dick had to move the phone away from his ear and quickly move it back again. “None of you deserve him. My husband is doing this as a favour to me so no, I won’t ask him to stop. Goodbye Richard.” With that she hung up and when he tried calling back he realised just how far they’d pushed Jason as the number rang out and on the next try declared the number unreachable. Rose obviously destroyed the phone as soon as she could.

Swearing loudly with hands gripping his hair he turned back to the family and shook his head. Barbara and Tim instantly turning back to their screens to try and sort the footage out. Only problem was, Husan wasn’t stupid. He’d taken out any truck that looked similar in make and model to the one Dick had stopped that morning.

Next came the search through hotel records and an attempt to find a money trail.

Dead end after dead end.

When patrol rolled around they flew out into the city, not to fight crime but to protect anyone who could come in contact with the Bat as he tore through the place like a man possessed. Ripping up Jason’s safe houses without a care. Threatening and beating any old contact of his second son’s for any flicker of information. Every single one of them gave the same answer.

The Red Hood was gone.

His men had been placed in charge of his patrol area and everything he managed by Deathstroke. The fear of Hood’s partner returning ensuring they had maintained all Jason had worked to build.

Weeks went by with no leads.

Deathstroke had fallen silent amongst the mercenary circles months ago. Refusing contracts and eventually ceasing all contact.

Alfred had been called in by Tim to contact Randolph Wintergreen. The two old SAS buddies had met up on occasion and they figured that would be an angle they could us. Until Wintergreen shut them down by informing them he’d been allowed to retire and was currently sipping a mai tai at a beach bar in Costa Rica.

The weeks turned slowly into months.

Each of the Bats and Birds slowly gave up hope of finding their missing brother. Of showing him just how much they loved and cared. Each realising it had been too late. Every one of them except two.

Dick and Kate couldn’t stop.

One had seen the worst of Bruce. Had fought with him a thousand and one times. Walked away and returned. The other had been pushed out, never fully accepted. Their values bullied by Bruce. Their ideas ignored due to the force they were willing to employ when the need arose.

Dick protected his other siblings with a ferocity usually only seen in the Bat around April each year. Forcing the Bat back and away. Never allowing him close enough to break his other siblings like he’d clearly broken Jason.

Meanwhile, with Renee and Maggie as her emotional support and Alfred’s daughter running the technical side, Kate searches everywhere she could. Batwoman seen moving through the states clearly searching. Taking down drug and child trafficking operations with the finality of Red Hood.

****

A year after attempting to take his own life found Jason sat on a balcony in Paris, sipping on a glass of wine, and enjoying the company of Slade. The pair of them just listening to the bustling noise of the city at night and making idle chatter. The cool evening breeze reminding him of a very different breeze.

The former Red Hood swapped the glass to his other hand and took Slade’s with his now free one. “Thank you Slade.” At the quirked eyebrow of his insufferably annoying yet kind love Jason blushed and flicked his gaze back out over the city. “For saving me a year ago. I, I hadn’t known life could be this peaceful.”

“Despite the fact Kane and Grayson’s hunting forced us to move here?” Slade questioned. He knew how much Jason had loved their cabin. The quiet and solitude had soothed the permanent itch under his skin left over from the pit. Allowed him to focus on himself away from distraction or worry. Allowed him to really live for the first time.

Jason rolled his head onto his shoulder and looked at Slade once again, a smile ticking up his lips. “Yeah, despite that. It’s, all this, it’s nice.” He waved the glass so it encompassed the city and their balcony. The deep red liquid sloshing from side to side.

They fell into another moment of silence. Not stifling or awkward like that that Jason experienced around his former family. Not charged with dangerous intent like both had found in the League. Nor was it burning with adrenaline as they waited out a target. It was comfortable, oozing a warmth and companionship neither had truly found prior.

The younger man was just about to consider turning in for the night, perhaps enjoying the more physical way Slade showed his love and attraction, when Slade squeezes his hand. He looks back at the older man and notices how he’s now the one avoiding eye contact. Looking out at Paris in all her glory.

“Do you ever miss it, being Hood I mean?” Slade speaks quietly as of scared to break the comfort they’d finally found.

“Some days, on my worst days. That craving for a fight, taking hits just to feel.” Jason allows that small smile to return, more melancholy than before. “The sex workers who’d always have information and a minute just to talk as friends, equals. You?”

A frown flits over Slade’s face, there and gone again in an instant. “I thought I would, in the beginning. Being here with you, owning a bookshop, and working as a nurse of all things, it’s a sort of relaxing I didn’t think I’d get once my father hit me that first time. Sort of wrote it off. I suppose you’ve always been the anomaly in the universe.” He smirks over at Jason. It’s a standing joke between them. A way to help Jason come to terms with surviving so much, with dying and coming back to life in such a horrifying way. A bright anomaly in an otherwise dark universe.

The two of them, happy against all odds. Living normal lives. Content to just be.


End file.
